Drawn Again
by MufuMufuSan
Summary: Under the threat of his little brother disappearing, Italy Romano decided to do anything in his power to prevent that. If that meant going to England for help, fine. If that meant being reborn as the next Vongola Decimo's little brother- wait, what? Gen, slight AU.
1. Prologue

**Drawn Again**

 _Prologue_

 _This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form._

 **Disclaimer:** I don't Hetalia, KHR, or any of its wonderful characters.

 **Warnings:** A form of character death. Rushed writing.

 **A/N:** I had an account when I was just a mere 13 years old, once. Filled to the brim with weebish stuff such as Hetalia and Death Note angsty fanfiction. I had switched accounts to this one once I decided that enough was enough, haha. I'll always have a soft spot for Hetalia, though, despite it's- well, fandom's flaws and all that. Romano was my favorite character, and I decided to do a throwback Tuesday type of deal with writing this.

Just a note, this _might_ never be updated again. ;a; The Hetalia/KHR crossover section is a very small archive, and I'd figure it'd be a shame if I didn't contribute to it at least once.

Enjoy!

* * *

Veneziano was sick again.

Romano frowned as he wrung out the wet wash cloth and folded it neatly, before he put it back onto Veneziano's burning forehead. He wasn't gentle, but he was cautious, so that had to count for something. He sighed as he sat back in his chair, surveying his little brother's flushed face. Veneziano was breathing shallowly and rapidly, little breaths coming out soft wheezes. Every once in awhile, his squirmed uncomfortably and let out a soft noise, expression scrunching up in slight pain.

Feeling oddly irritated now, Romano pushed himself up and left the room, lest he snap and shake Veneziano awake. Or cry. Probably both.

It wasn't hard to figure out what was wrong with him, if you lived in Italy. The city of Venice, where Veneziano originated and his own personal capital, was sinking ever so slowly. With the water level slowly rising, Veneziano was suffering. Romano was growing more worried and scared each time Veneziano called him, and begged him to come home, feeling unwell as he did.

The slight fear of one of them disappearing grew each time.

And- well, Romano was partly scared that it would be him. He was more scared, though, that it would be Veneziano. And the way things were going, that might be true. The thought was sobering and left him feeling oddly empty. Sure, there were times Romano denied his little brother's existence at times, but he cared... somewhat. It seemed like every time he was ready to openly declare his love for his younger brother, that idiot did something stupid and everything reverted back to him denying anything to do with him.

Still!

He was Veneziano's _older_ brother.

Romano wasn't good at many things. He grew somewhat adept at cleaning, despite his slightly clumsy limbs and bad luck in the area. Farming was also something he was quite good at. Cooking was something he always proud of, considering that was the one area he was actually _better_ at than his do-no-wrong little ball of potential and sunshine little brother. Unlike Veneziano, he didn't have many talents, he wasn't good at everything, nor did he really have the right potential to be so.

But he wanted to be a good older brother.

And what older brother would let their younger sibling die?

 _Stronzo!_

The thing is that Romano didn't know how to save Veneziano. Maybe there was a cure, or some fairytale shit like that. But- Romano scowled as he moved around in the kitchen, absently pulling out ingredients and casserole dishes, preheating the oven. Romano didn't really fit the title of 'prince', no matter how much you looked at it. He was- well, he refused to say _scared_ , but that wasn't too far off the marker. Not brave, yeah, that's it. Besides, Romano couldn't really say he 'knew' knew anyone, any other Nation, who had disappeared. _Nono_ Rome, but even then, Romano didn't really know him that well. Or met with him that much.

Veneziano did.

And he was there when _nono_ passed away.

Romano paused, that bitter and slightly envious memory sparking another one. Veneziano also knew someone, from his childhood, who disappeared, didn't he? Yeah, Romano distinctly remembers Spain warning him one time, when they were visiting Austria, to not bring him up to Veneziano lest he break down. Romano, at the time, was just offended that he needed to be warned against making his little idiot of a brother cry rather than wonder _why_. He had just thought it was because of his rather _charming_ and tough personality-

It was only later Romano heard the rumors.

The Holy Roman Empire had disappeared.

While Romano didn't know him personally, only a few brief meetings that usually ended with Romano face first in the dirt with the bastard's foot grinding his skull into the ground- that was besides the point! The point was that while Romano didn't know him, Veneziano did. And Veneziano was staying with a few others who had also lived in the house at the time- er, before they had abandoned Austria, that is.

Austria, that frugal pianist who also got on Romano's last nerve probably knew.

Hungary, a really pretty and scary lady who- honestly kind of unnerved Romano to an extent with how much she giggled wildly and had nosebleeds every time he came into contact with his previous caretaker at the world meetings. Pretty, but... weird.

France probably knew, considering the rumors.

Prussia, maybe.

Spain, maybe.

Romano weighed his options, already knowing that he was sure as hell that he wasn't going to consult the bad friend trio for advice. Spain, the bastard, would probably just laugh him off, and it was hard to really decipher any real advice from his ramblings. Prussia- well, Romano usually felt gloomy for associating with him after any time they spent together. France was a fuck-face, and that- that was enough of a reason to not go to him. So all that really left was Austria and Hungary, and- that, that was manageable.

" _F-fratello_?" A weak voice from the entrance to the kitchen spoke, thin and scratchy. Romano whipped around, holding the skillet in front of him as a makeshift shield, almost ready to scream- not that he was scared, or anything! Startled! Yeah, that's it.

Veneziano stood in the doorway, blanket wrapped around hunched shoulders. His face was pale and thin, with deep bags underneath normally bright eyes. He smiled weakly at him.

"Don't scare me like that, you bastard," Romano seethed, placing the skillet down onto the stove top. His heart beat settled and he frowned, sending another glare at his idiotic brother. "And what are you doing up? Go lay back down, I'm making dinner, and I'll be back up there soon, idiot."

"It smelt good," Veneziano protested weakly, eyes unfocusing slightly. Romano huffed, skeptical.

 _I haven't even started cooking yet_. "Of course it does," Romano muttered, walking up to his brother. "You didn't answer my question, bastard," he took Veneziano and carefully guided him into a kitchen chair, where he slumped down into it and grimaced.

"I- I thought you left," Veneziano admitted, with an exaggerated sniff. He blinked away tears, and smiled back up at him, and Romano could see the faint traces of the happy and healthy Veneziano in it. It was- slightly relieving, and painful, to see. "I'm so glad you stayed, ve~"

Romano was slightly torn between flushing heavily, or scowling. He managed both, somehow, and despite the painful thudding his heart was doing- it was good to see Veneziano so coherent. "Of course, you idiot," Romano scolded, softly. Gentle didn't coincide with Romano, but sometimes he managed cautious and soft, as awkwardly as he could. "You need to rest," he told Veneziano with a scowl. "You can't get better if you're up like this."

"Ah, but I'm already feeling loads better," Veneziano nodded, slowly. "So much better now that you're here with me." Romano twitched, cursing his brother's idioticness and stupidness to hell and back. That- that was fucking embarrassing to hear.

But Veneziano was sick; Romano let it go, reluctantly.

"Feeling better doesn't mean fully recovered," Romano quoted Spain, almost wisely. He scowled soon after though. "You either go back to bed, or I'll drag you to the couch. Which one?" Veneziano grimaced, before sighing and closing his eyes, breathing rather shallowly. For a second, Romano thought he was going to faint, but thankfully, he spoke.

"C-couch, please," Veneziano asked.

"Whatever," Romano rolled his eyes, and helped him stand up. He guided him to the living room, and deposited him onto the couch. He turned on the TV, and gave the remote to Veneziano with a huff. "I'll be back to give you something to drink; you better not pass out while I'm in the kitchen, got it?"

"Ve, _si_ ," Veneziano agreed weakly, sending him another meaningful glance. " _Grazie_ , _fratello_ ," he murmured, and his eyes became unfocused the more he settled into the couch. Romano pursed his lips, and nodded curtly, hurrying back to the kitchen to make a pitcher of water and fetch a glass for him.

It was only after the evening was over, after dinner was served, and Romano helped Veneziano get ready for bed. That included helping him take a bath, and while he was in there, he quickly changed the sheets for Veneziano's bed. He also replaced the water in the water basin, and organized his medication. As Veneziano settled in, he gripped onto Romano's hand, and whimpered, eyes squeezed shut, begging him to stay until he fell asleep. Romano stayed there, silent and rigid, and he was once again watching Veneziano sleep.

It was after _all_ that was done, and Romano managed to sneak away to his room across the hall that he managed to grab his cellphone and dial a couple of numbers. Foremost, Austria and Hungary to tell them that he was visiting sometime tomorrow, and then the potato bastard to come take care of his brother while he was away, or _so help me, god, I'll fucking castrate you_.

Romano never said he was good with words.

-0-0-0-

"So, have you visited _Spain_ recently?" Hungary giggled, as she poured him some coffee. Romano stared blankly ahead, wondering if this is really his life. While he wanted to respond in kind, and be sweet to such a pretty lady that Hungary was- it was hard when she kept on bringing up his old caretaker and giggling wildly, with tissue shoved up her nose and staring at him with an annoying gleam in her eyes.

"N-no," Romano hedged, at last. "I haven't," he admitted with reluctance. Austria and him were sitting across from each other at a dining table. Hungary was fluttering between bringing them out small snacks and refilling their drinks, and just. Giggling.

Austria just sat there, sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper.

Romano was barely there for five minutes, and he was already- kind of irritated and tired.

"That's too bad," Hungary didn't look all that discouraged though. "Maybe both you and I can visit him sometime," she sighed dreamily, and Romano twitched, awkward and silent.

"Um," was all he could manage to say.

She was _insinuating_ something, he just knew it! And he didn't know what it was- and he, kind of, really didn't want to find out what that was.

"Elizabeta," Austria sighed, finally putting down the paper to frown at her. "Leave him alone," he raised a delicate eyebrow at her. Hungary pouted, but conceded with one last _knowing_ look at Romano, before she fluttered away out of the dining room. Austria spared him an even glance, and Romano had to refrain from scowling at the pianist bastard, clenching his fists underneath the table.

Romano still carried a grudge from being sent away from his house due to being a 'difficult' child. While it left him with a doting Spain, who he really did care for on some level, it was still a sore subject to be sent away while his brother was obviously favored.

Brother. Right. He came here for a damn reason, and that reason was not to be flustered by a giggly Hungarian and a frugal bastard like Austria.

"Italy Romano," Austria mused, making Romano stiffen. Austria's violet eyes were contemplative as he stared Romano down, and Romano had to bite his tongue in effort to not be intimidated by the bastard. "So what brings you here? I assume it's for a reason, and not for a simple visit," he stated, and Romano had to inwardly snort.

Why the hell would he fucking visit him? Especially when his little brother was so sick?

"I came to ask about the disappearance of the Holy Roman Empire," Romano said, bluntly. He hesitated at that slight widening of Austria's eyes, surprise flickering over his expression. "I need to know," he offered, awkwardly.

"Why?" Austria's expression became closed, his mouth thinning slightly. Guarded, and Romano openly scowled this time. "You don't strike me as someone who really cared for him," Austria sniffed, and Romano had to roll his eyes.

"I personally don't care about _him_ , dammit," Romano insisted. "I care about his disappearance."

Austria's expression didn't change. "That still doesn't answer my question as to why you need to know."

Frustration built up, and Romano snapped, "Because my idiotic brother is sick, and I'm-" he clamped his mouth shut, and he glared at the table. He tapped his fingers harshly against the worn wood, trying to even out his breathing and to clear the irritation that clouded his thoughts. "I want to know because maybe if I know exactly how someone disappears I can prevent it."

How dare the damned pianist bastard make him explain himself to him? Romano glared at the surprised Austria, mouth pressed into a thin line of displeasure. He wanted to flip the table and spill his coffee over the damned bastard's face, and probably take a bat to his beloved piano for good measure.

Austria's expression was surprised, and startled. It shifted, and he looked quite stricken, before he cleared his throat, glancing away to compose himself. He straightened his shoulders, and when he looked back at Romano, his face was serious and rather expressionless. Romano flinched when that hardened expression focused on him, making him want to run far away.

"That is a very serious accusation, Romano," Austria spoke sternly. "I won't have you making up these, these _lies_ just to get some attention," he snapped, and Romano had to sputter. "If you're not here on a serious matter, then I'd have to suggest you leave immediately."

"What the fuck, you bastard!" Romano snarled, standing up and slamming his hands down onto the table. His coffee spilled onto the floor, and staining his shoes, but Romano couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. "Why the hell do you think I'm making this shit up? Honestly, fuck you!" Anger churned his stomach, and he breathed harshly through his mouth, eyes watering against his will.

This- this was fucking stupid. Austria was stupid! Fuck him to hell and back, Romano wanted to piss on everything he loved and adored due to how stupid he was! Austria's expression crumpled slightly, before it hardened once more and it looked like he was trying to keep his composure.

"I suggest you leave," Austria's voice was tight.

"Not until I get some fucking answers, you bastard," Romano demanded.

"You won't get them from me. Now, _leave_." Austria ordered, and Romano faltered.

"You're a bastard, and I hope you rot in hell. Seriously, _vaffanculo_ ," Romano snarled, before turning on heel and storming out of the dining room, intent on slamming the front door once he got there. And throwing literally every vase and painting he had onto the ground on his way out.

It was only when he was about to raise an arm to clothesline everything on a passing table down to the ground when a slender, but firm, hand stopped him. He jerked out of the grasp, and whipped around to snarl, only to stop when he saw Hungary's conflicted expression. She raised a finger to her lips, and gestured for him to follow her. Romano hesitated before he nodded stonily. She lead him out of the huge mansion, and out into the rather elegant garden behind Austria's house to a secluded spot.

It was silent, heavy and awkward.

"What do you want, Hungary?" Romano murmured, carefully. It was hard to reign in his frustration from his rather explosive and unproductive encounter with Austria. "I got better things to worry about than staying here," he insisted at Hungary's look.

"I know," she admitted, wringing her hands nervously. She looked nervous and slightly downtrodden. "What you said to Austria back there- it isn't true, is it? I heard Ita-chan was sick, but-...," she glanced away, biting her lip.

And Romano couldn't stay angry at a pretty and worried woman, despite slightly wanting to hold onto that anger and let it carry him through the next few hours or so.

"Why would I lie about something like this?" Romano asked, making a crumpled expression. "And why wouldn't that bastard believe me?" He didn't want to know the answer, considering his bad history with the frugal pianist. Hungary sent him a joyless smile, hinting that she knew the answer, and that it wasn't far off from Romano's original assumptions about it.

When Austria had said that Romano was a 'difficult' child, he wasn't lying.

Romano was an angry little shit when he was younger, he'll admit that much. He did a lot of things he isn't proud of, such as pissing on Austria's lawn and making up outrageous lies to get out of work and trouble, and sometimes to get some attention that wasn't focused on his brother. Still, though, he would have thought that Austria would have helped _Veneziano_ , even if he didn't like Romano himself. Apparently he either really didn't like Romano, or he really didn't care about Veneziano; Romano felt slightly bitter at both, especially if people wouldn't help him because he was Romano, and _why would care about your brother, Romano? Aren't you always complaining about him?_

Romano glanced away from Hungary's knowing look.

"So you're not lying?" Hungary asked, to clarify. Romano shot her a look of his own, and her expression crumpled. "O-oh," she swallowed, closing her eyes tightly. "Please don't be mad with Austria, please," she begged, and Romano scoffed, before flushing and glancing away in shame. He was never harsh with women, but she was begging him to do something that he felt was impossible at this point.

"No," he denied, with a slight scowl. It fell away when he glanced back at her. "I need to save my brother, and he fucking refused."

Hungary's expression softened, and she smiled a bit sadly. "Austria- he's... a really broken man, deep inside," she tried to justify. "I don't think he'd want to believe something like Ita-chan being so sick as to disappear." Romano scoffed, loudly this time. "I'll help in place of Austria, Romano," Hungary insisted, but she faltered. "But I don't see how knowing about the disappearance of little Holy Roman Empire can help."

Romano literally had nothing else to go on.

"What do you suggest, then?" Romano asked, feeling oddly helpless.

Hungary hummed, looking thoughtful. Determined now, and it was oddly refreshing to see someone else willing to help him with this. "Ita-chan's personal capital is Venice, right? I read a few reports online that said it was sinking, right?" Romano nodded, solemnly. "And he might.. Disappear from that?"

Jesus, how many times did he need to repeat that. "I feel it," Romano insisted, making Hungary nod. He did feel it, somewhat, but it was mostly his worry as an older brother that made him so anxious and guilt ridden.

"Perhaps...," Hungary said slowly. "You two need to not be unified?"

That. Was. Stupid.

While it wasn't Romano's bright idea to actually unify with his little brother, it was something he wasn't willing to risk. It was true that they were stronger together, and while it had happened so quick that it was a bit awkward and that lead to the creation of the mafia -don't think about that, Romano-, and him leaving home to stay with America for a bit- well, more than a bit. He stayed there more often than not in America's house nowadays, often torn between staying there and bouncing back to his little house in Rome, Italy. His brother had his own house that he used to share with him before Romano packed it to America, and it was more up north that left Romano feeling oddly alienated. Still, even if they were to- suddenly decide to separate, no doubt that would cause some disruptions in their people, and that would probably push Veneziano off the edge. So no, that was too risky.

Romano's expression must have conveyed what he was feeling, and Hungary winced.

"Then have you considered one of you guys becoming an... ex-nation? Like Prussia?" Hungary gently prodded, and Romano paused. Oh yeah, he had momentarily forgotten that Prussia was an ex-nation. How the hell did that ever happen, again? Romano thinks it happened when they tore down the Berlin Wall- Romano bit the inside of his cheek, squinting slightly in thought.

"How?" Romano asked, frowning slightly. "I thought Prussia was a special case."

Hungary shrugged delicately. "I don't know, but we know it's possible now," she grinned at him, and Romano blinked, feeling his face heat up slightly. He cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced away. "The only other option I see is magic, and the only one I know whose... really capable of magic is England. And I don't think you're that fond of him," at the mention of the eyebrowed bastard, Romano paled.

"Oh," he managed to say weakly.

England always scared him. Even more so after the second World War, and not to mention the scary bedtime stories Spain used to tell him in order to make him stay close to him during his colony days. That, and the fact, at the time, that England was able to get an upperhand on Spain's _Armada_ was super scary. Romano swallowed, dryly, and considered his options. Prussia was a good choice, but just because he experienced it probably doesn't mean he knows how it happened. Magic was, well, sounds like complete and utter bullshit, but right now, Romano was grabbing at straws here.

That, and if Romano remembered correctly, Prussia was currently in Canada leaching maple syrup from America's invisible brother. Romano couldn't exactly fly over there directly, not when he was currently stuck with regular human's way of transportation. He'll have to bounce and transfer a few flights to be able to go back to the West, and he might as well cross the eyebrow bastard off the list while he was heading there. Just to get him out of the way, and to get the encounter off the list, and so he could go back to pretending that England didn't exist to him.

"Thank you, _bella_ ," Romano told Hungary, sincerely.

Hungary blinked, before giggling. "You know, you're a lot more Tsun than dere," she told him, and Romano blinked, confused. _C-che_? "Good luck, Roma-chan," Hungary told him, and Romano flushed, face heating up at the nickname. "Keep me updated, and go save Ita-chan!"

Romano, despite feeling rather embarrassed, couldn't help but nod dumbly back in reply.

-0-0-0-

England was a gloomy and wet country.

Romano shouldered the cold weather, pulling his expensively cut and thick jacket tighter to him. He silently cursed the fact that his leather shoes weren't going to like the murky puddles and the mist that was located in the hurried and rather bleak town of London, England. Feeling suddenly very small amidst the crowds of people who looked busy, he pushed his way through the crowd; it was faster on foot rather than on car, in this instance. And there was also the fact that England, himself, had personally banned both Italy brothers from ever driving in his country. Personally, and- that was scary, and Romano didn't want to know what would happen if he broke England's personal rules.

He highly doubted he'd live through that encounter.

Every once in awhile, Romano would glance down at the GPS on his phone, making sure he was going the right way. Soon enough, Romano found himself standing in front of a very new looking building, making Romano inwardly snort. Either this building was just built to accommodate England, or he really spent all that money and time refurnishing it to look like this. Romano wasn't one to complain considering that he lived in his capital, but most Nations didn't due to the lack of privacy. Not that it mattered much to Romano, considering he usually stayed with America most of the time, and America's house was fucking huge.

And was located in the outskirts of Washington DC, a little bit more on the Virginia side of the border. It was close enough to reach the capital within a day, but far enough so the house would be rather secluded, and had a lot of farmland.

Romano forced himself back on task, trying not to talk himself out of it, or distract himself any longer. Just a deep breath, Romano straightened up and pressed the button on the side of the stairs that lead up to the entrance. An annoying buzz rang off, and after a few moments of silence, a voice spoke.

"Italy Romano? What are you doing here?" England asked, barely holding in his surprise.

Romano scowled rather instinctively, before curbing his expression into strained politeness. "I need to talk to you," _bastard_ , Romano added silently. Romano had came prepared with blackmail and threats, he was prepared for this encounter. That didn't stop the fear from making his knees shake, and his heart rate accelerate, making him almost want to cry. _For Veneziano_ , he reminded himself viciously.

England sounded vaguely annoyed now. "And why do you want to do that?" He sounded dubious, and Romano inwardly sighed.

"For...," Romano hedged, carefully and awkward. "Reasons?"

"Reasons?" Came England's bland reply.

"Just let me in, you fucking bastard," Romano groaned, wrapping his arms around himself. "It's fucking cold and wet out here," he offered a bit more, mentally congratulating himself on the fact that he was able to think ahead, and sent his suitcase back to America so he could just go back and grab it before he heading over to Canada's house. He was also glad that he wasn't sobbing in fear right now, and running far. Far. Away.

There was an ungodly silence.

"Fine," England finally grumbled, "What type of host would I be if I just let you die out there," Romano paled. "Just wait, I'll be down there in a minute or so," he told him primly, before the connection was cut. Romano sighed a breath of relief, closing his eyes and trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

It wasn't long before the apartment's entrance swung open, and eerily bright green eyes stared at him, England's expression dry and pinched. He eyed him, before sighing and pulling back.

"Come in, and let's talk about those _reasons_ , huh?" England invited him inside, and Romano slowly inched inside, eyes roaming and posture rather stiff. He almost jumped a meter in the air when England gestured at him, yelping slightly. England raised an eyebrow, "Let me take your coat and hat, Italy Romano," he grumbled, looking personally offended.

Romano flushed, scowling slightly. "I thought you were going to attack me," he defended weakly, taking off his heavy coat and hat, handing it to the other Nation gingerly. "Don't somehow ruin those; those are expensive," he warned as an afterthought.

"Why the bloody hell would I attack my guest?" England questioned, with a heavy roll of his eye. He, almost mockingly slow, put Romano's coat and hat on a nearby coat rack, turning towards Romano with an impossibly large eyebrow raised.

"You're England," Romano muttered, and England blinked.

"How- you know what? Let's stop the conversation there," England sounded pained, and slightly irritated. He brushed past Romano, gesturing for him to follow. "You're lucky you're in time for tea. A little conversation is better with tea, after all," he told Romano, seriously.

 _Tea_? Romano mentally made a face; he was more of a coffee person, to be honest. But he heard America's stories about how England took his food and tea very seriously, and so, Romano didn't want to push his boundaries and accidentally offend him.

"Sure," he ground out, following the eyebrowed bastard through his huge ass building. It figures that he would have the whole damn building to himself, Romano thought. It was surprisingly bright in here, though; Romano was half-expecting it to be dim and gloomy as it was outside.

As England poured the tea, and Romano was ordered to sit on a rather stiff loveseat- Romano took the time to rehearse what he would say to the bastard. _Help me cure my brother, and make sure that neither of us disappear, you bastard_ , was the main thing Romano was going to hedge on. England's voice broke through Romano's concentration, bland and rather curious.

"So what brings you to my humble abode, Italy Romano?" England raised an eyebrow at him. Romano twitched, accepting the steaming cup of tea reluctantly. "Sorry, I didn't add anything to it; I don't know how much creamer or sugar you would have wanted," England apologized, and Romano shrugged halfheartedly.

"S'okay," he muttered, staring into his tea cup. His dark reflection was shown back, and Romano sighed, taking a sip. It was easier to drink tea if it was bitter, to be honest. "I came here to request a favor," he finally spoke, awkwardly and quiet.

"What?" England blinked.

"Don't make me fucking repeat myself, bastard," Romano snapped, halfheartedly.

England matched his scowl with an irritated huff. "My apologies, but I don't speak bloody mumbling," he drawled, making Romano's scowl deepen. "A favor, you say?" England leaned back in his seat, sipping his tea contemplatively. His sharp green eyes eyed him rather shrewdly. "I didn't take you for the type to ask for anyone's help, much less mine," he said, at last.

"It's serious!" Romano gestured, feeling frustrated at the fact that people just- refused to believe that Romano sometimes needed help sometimes. While it was flattering to think that at first, it slowly grew more and more frustrating due to the fact most other nations wouldn't help because they thought Romano wouldn't accept it. Well- he probably wouldn't, but it was still fucking polite to ask anyways, wasn't it?

"It seems so," England's eyebrows raised. "If you're here."

"Just- hear me out, dammit," Romano set aside his barely touched tea down, shifting in his seat. His expression was twisted in his expression. "Have you heard about my brother?"

"Italy?" England blinked. "What about him? I heard that he has been sick for awhile now, and that is affecting some of Europe's economy, but that's all I know." _Italy_ , Romano repeated dully in his head. To other nations, Veneziano was often called just 'Italy', while Romano was just called 'Italy Romano'. There were special cases, of course, but-

Damn it all, it still fucking stung.

 _Do this for your brother, bastard_ , Romano reminded himself.

"He is sick, really sick," Romano admitted, uneasily. "I have some concerns about it. He is sick because the city of Venice is slowly sinking, and- well," Romano averted his eyes to glare upwards, above the bright blond that was England's messy hair. "How do I make him better?"

"I'm not a doctor, you know," England said, solemn and annoyed.

"I know, but- magic," Romano gestured vaguely at him. He frowned. "You do that magic shit, don't you? And this is more serious than just a simple illness, dammit," he insisted before he hesitated, glaring down at his folded hands. "I'm- he might disappear," _and I'm worried about it_.

England squinted at him, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. Romano tried not to fidget uncomfortably as his scrutinizing stare was unwavering and rather hard. At last, England sighed. "You're being serious, aren't you? Not just some silly Italian anticis that I'd expect coming from both you and your brother?"

 _What the fuck_?" "No," Romano denied, hackles rising. "This is serious! I'm serious," he insisted, hotly. "I already went to Austria's fucking place for help, but he's a dirty bastard and refused to give it to me. My next option is you," _and the Prussian bastard_. But Romano clamped his mouth shut on that one, knowing full well that if he made it seem like England was his last, and only, choice, that could perhaps work in his favor.

England was silent, chewing in his lower lip and eyes darkening with contemplation. "I'll help," he decided at last. Romano almost collapsed with relief, feeling some tension leave his muscles. "I don't know how much of a help I can be, but I'll be willing to help as much as I am able," England told him, seriously. "Truth be told, I never had to deal with disappearing Nations, so any help I might be able to offer might be unconventional. Is that okay?"

Romano nodded. "As long as my brother doesn't disappear, dammit," was all he said, and England nodded. He stood up, brushing off his clean slacks and nodding towards him.

"Follow me, my library archive is just down the hall," England said. "There should be something there about how disappearing countries work, and whatnot. And if we're lucky, there might be something there to help you."

As it turns out, the library archive was surprisingly brighter than Romano had thought. He had thought that there would dark shelves, and a dim room filled with creepy cobwebs. Perhaps the only light would only be candlelight. But sadly, no, and it was lit with florescent lights installed on the tall ceiling. It was clean and neat, though a few boxes were scattered here and there, seemingly acting as placeholders for small tables.

"I've relocated a few times," was all England said, with a mindful shrug of his shoulders.

And that was the only thing spoken for the next few hours, besides Romano's grumbling and complaints and England's irritated huffs.

They were sorting through book after book, flipping through the pages and frowning at them. English was something Romano had barely learned to read in the past hundred years, and that was only because Romano took off to America a little bit after he unified with his little brother. That is to say, the swirling and rather clunky yet graceful English cursive was a bit hard to read for him, and Romano had to squint really hard at the pages to make sense of it.

Both of the Nations had resorted to grabbing armfuls of books, and sitting on the ground, sorting through them with painstaking concentration. During this time, Romano's phone had went off a few times, much to England and Roman's mutual annoyance. At last, when the phone started to vibrate and let out the Italian national anthem once again, Romano answered.

"What the fuck do you want, bastard? I'm busy," he seethed, pausing in the middle of his work to focus on the conversation. England let out an irritated sigh, but continued to sort through the books, impossibly large eyebrows furrowed as he sorted through them.

"Roma~" Spain's irritating and chirpy voice answered him, making Romano roll his eyes heavily. Great, just great; Spain's ramblings was long and drawn out, and it'd take forever for Romano to get him to shut up and leave him the fuck alone without fully hurting his dumb feelings. Romano shifted, making a grunting noise to answer. "It's been so long since we last talked," Spain continued, sounding disheartened.

"I'm. Busy." Romano reiterated. "What do you want?"

"Busy with what?" Spain sounded dubious. "Oh! Er, what do I want? I wanted to hear your voice, Roma! Just this morning, I was sleeping before I had to go into work for my Boss, ya' know? And I was just finishing up my breakfast, and was going to do a quick check up on my tomatoes before I wondered what you might be doing. I wanted to call you then, so I called around to see if you were there. America had said that you went to visit Ita-chan, and so I called Ita-chan's place. Then _Germany_ picked up! I was really surprised. Anyways, Germany said that you went to Austria's place! So I call Austria, and he said he had no idea where you went. So I was at a lost before Hungary called _me_ , and told me you might be in Canada's house, or England's."

Romano felt a headache began to build up, and he rubbed his forehead.

"But I don't know who Canada is," Spain admitted, after taking a deep breath. "And I don't think you were at England's house either because you're scared of him, ya' know? So- er...," he trailed off, sounding vaguely confused. "Where was I again?"

Romano tsked, "Idiot." He shot a glance at England, who was seemingly entranced in a book that he had picked up. His eyes were scanning the pages intently, something like realization dawning on his features. Romano felt a bit of anticipation build up, and he tried to focus on his conversation with his previous caretaker. "I have a fucking cell phone, you bastard. Why didn't you call me on that first?"

"Oh! Oh, er," Spain sounded at a lost. "I just didn't think of that, I guess, haha."

"Idiot," Romano gritted out. He felt a slight nudge on his side, and shot a quick glare at England, who gestured at the book he had been reading. "I got to go, dammit," Romano tried to cut off the conversation there.

"Wait, where are you, Roma?" Spain interrupted before Romano could disconnect. "Boss is really worried!"

"I'm at England's, bastard," Romano snapped, before pulling the phone away from his ear. "Now goodbye," he disconnected before Spain could interject, and he sighed, shoving the phone into his pocket. He turned to face England's deadpanned expression, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," England said quickly, clearing his throat. He held up a book and said, "I think I found an answer in this book, but it causes some- well, it's probably not what you might have thought to be a solution. It's pretty farfetched, but should work," England's dubious tone was ignored as Romano huffed.

"Well? Go on," he ordered.

England scowled slightly. A pause of uncertainty, and England's scowl fell away to seriousness. "One question to ask before I begin: how far will you really go for you brother, Italy Romano?"

Romano wanted to snap, _anything, you bastard_.

But he stopped short at England's serious and solemn expression, something akin to nervousness building up his heartbeat and making something cold shudder it's way down his spine. Licking suddenly dry lips, Romano glanced away and thought about it for a quick moment. Veneziano was someone Romano always compared himself to, was always slightly jealous of, and was someone Romano knew that he couldn't hold a fucking candle to. Ask anyone else, and they'd choose Veneziano over Romano in a heartbeat considering the fact that Veneziano was a ball of fucking sunshine, and Romano was sulky and temperamental brat, under certain circumstances.

But would Romano choose Veneziano over himself?

What a dark question.

Selfish or selfless, what would Romano want to be known as? Perhaps it was a mix of both considering the fact that he was selfish to be wanting to be known as _selfless_. What a good older brother to give up his needs for his younger brother, right?

 _For Veneziano_ , Romano reminded himself viciously.

"Anything," Romano answered, at last. He gave a wild look at the solemn England, heartbeat thudding painfully in his chest. "I'd go as far as I need to for my younger brother," _dammit_ , Romano added mentally.

England's expression didn't change much except for the solemn and self-depreciating twist of his lips. "Then I have a solution to your problem, then."

-0-0-0-

The solution was, to be put shortly, was a spell. A spell that would make Romano an ex-nation of sort. Only it involved Romano's current existence to be put through something call 'rebirth', and he'd be reborn as a human. Whether or not he'd keep his memories was up to debate, and Romano felt fucking scared at the thought of going through this.

Nonetheless, he insisted to do the spell as quickly as possible. Without saying goodbye to his idiotic little brother, and what little people who cared about him. On the bright side, if he was reborn with his memories- this wouldn't be a permanent goodbye.

"Are you sure you want to do this _now_?" England once again asked.

Romano swallowed dryly, tears making his eyes wet. Fear was making his limbs and fingers tremble, and he took a shaky breath. "If I don't do it right now, I might change my mind," he answered, quietly. He cleared his throat. "I- I won't give myself a chance to do that if I do this now."

 _For Veneziano_.

-0-0-0-

Needless to say, Italy Veneziano felt better, even stronger than before. Though he was left feeling oddly distraught, and worried for his older brother who never returned home. This would eventually lead to Veneziano trying to discover where his brother had went with the help of a few other nations, trying not to think of the worst.

Also needless to say, Sawada Iemitsu and Sawada Nana of Namimori, Japan, had just received news of a second pregnancy. Sawada Tsuna was only 5 years old when he learned that he was going to be an older brother.

No one really knew how this would have affected the world in the years to come.

* * *

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

Finals are over, by the way. Expect more updates to come for my other stories.

:D

-mms


	2. Chapter 1

**Drawn Again**

 _Chapter 1_

 _This chapter wasn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If ya' see a mistake, please be a pal and tell me!_

 **Warnings:** General. Swearing. Rushed writing.

 **A/N:** Hey-ho, an update!

Enjoy!

* * *

"He's a true Italian."

That's what was said about the newest Sawada, much to Iemitsu's pleasure. He was always, and forever will be, proud of his Italian heritage. His wife, Sawada Nana, giggled wildly, absently brushing a finger against the slight curl of her newest child. The child squirmed uncomfortably, causing her to giggle a bit more.

"True Italian?" Sawada Tsuna stumbled over the words, rather cutely. Iemitsu hummed, bending down to pick him up and settle him next to his mother and little brother. Tsuna's eyes locked onto the rather red face of his baby brother and stared, mouth opening slightly in slight surprise.

Iemitsu grinned. "True _I-tal-ian_ ," he sounded out the word. Tsuna blinked up at him, confused. "You're Italian, too, Tsu-fish," Iemitsu nodded, making Tsuna nod back, though he still looked partially confused.

"There are other countries other than Japan, Tsu-kun," Nana giggled. "Your papa is descended from Italy!" The newest Sawada sniffed, still a bit fussy; Nana cooed and rocked him a bit. The baby quieted just a tiny bit, still sniffling.

"But how is he a _true_ Italian?" Tsuna demanded, frowning slightly.

"See that curl?" Iemitsu laughed, pointing towards the odd curl on his brother's head. Tsuna peered at it, squinting slightly. It was a rather odd feature, considering the fact that it was longer than the rest of the baby soft hair on his brother's head. "It's the mark of a true Italian," Iemitsu boasted.

"Then where's your curl?" Tsuna swung around to stare up at his papa with a frown. "Are you a true Italian?"

"Oh, er," Iemitsu shuffled, with a frozen grin on his face. "I'm- I'm a true Italian in spirit!" He finally said, at last, much to Nana's amusement. He winked at his son, who only blinked and returned to stare at his brother curiously.

"What's his name?" Tsuna finally asked, wondering if it would be something cool.

If anything, his mother's grin widened. "Seeing as of that your father got to name you, I get to name this one~" She said, airily. His father sighed in defeat and nodded.

"His name is Sawada Kenta," Iemitsu said, staring at his newest son. "But, in honor of his _true_ Italian nature, I have decided to add a middle name!" Nana rolled her eyes, still smiling indulgently.

"Middle name?" Tsuna asked. "What's that?"

"You see, you have your _family_ name, and then your own name, right?" Iemitsu explained, simply. Tsuna nodded along. "In some western parts of the world, parents will bless their child with a _middle_ name that will go in between the family name and your own name. His middle name is _Romano_. It's a pretty common name is Italy!"

"Romano?" Tsuna repeated, still trying to process it. "What's that mean? And why don't I have a middle name?" Tsuna wanted a middle name, now. Maybe it'd be something cool, like _robot_ , or something. Sawada _Robot_ Tsuna sounded pretty amazing, and all the kids at school would probably be jealous.

"Romano means, of _Rome_ , which is one of the major cities in Italy," Iemitsu laughed. He rubbed a hand through Tsuna's hair, mussing it up even more. "Don't worry much about it, Tsu-fish," he told him. "Hardly anyone goes by their middle names. It's just a little _homage_ to Italy, our ancestor's native country."

" _Homage_?" Tsuna frowned. He stared at his now sleeping brother, who was cradled in his mama's arms. Despite holding him this whole time, Nana didn't seem bothered by holding his little brother for so long.

"Ah- in respect, I think it means," Iemitsu shrugged, glancing at his sleepy wife, and his newest sleeping son. "Come on, Tsu-fish. Let's go home, I'll cook us something to eat~ Then it's off to bed we go."

"What? I wanna stay with mama!" Tsuna whined. His mother giggled.

"You can come visit me and your little brother tomorrow, Tsu-kun," Nana consoled, with a slight smile. She brushed hair from his eyes and smiled, warm. "Just stay the night with papa for a while, 'kay?"

"'kay," Tsuna grumbled. He glanced at his sleeping brother and leaned forward. What was his name again? Kenta, or Romano? "Night night, Roma-chan!" Tsuna pressed a slightly wet kiss on his brother's chubby cheek, making the baby squirm a bit. He grinned and pulled back, allowing his father to pick him up and carry him out of the room. He waved wildly at his mother.

"Roma-chan, huh?" Iemitsu asked, as he buckled Tsuna into his car seat. "I like the sound of that, Tsu-fish!"

And thus, the nickname stuck.

-0-0-0-

First of all:

 _What the fuck_?

Second of all— _what the fuck_?

Romano frowned heavily, staring rather intently at the toys laid in front of him. After a confusing period of unconsciousness and almost subdued thoughts, Romano was slowly gaining his sense of _self_ back. It was kind of like being woken up in the middle of a _siesta_ , not quite awake but aware enough to carry a sense of coherency. Romano wasn't used to aging regularly, wasn't used to aging in a long while, but even if this was rather quick compared to his time as a Nation—

It still felt too slow.

No matter—Romano inwardly sighed, feeling tired. Either from thinking, or that his naptime was nearing, who knew? This whole thing, this new life, must have meant that the magic shit England did fucking _worked_. And even better, he _remembered_!

Halle-fucking-lujah.

Now, it was just a waiting game for him to somehow get back to Italy. He was pretty sure he wasn't in Italy now, which was—Romano made a face. Well, it was inconvenient, but Romano was used to shit not going his way. If Romano had to guess, he was probably somewhere in Japan due to the language used most frequently in the household. His new family seemed to love cooing at him in it, at least. A language barrier was something Romano had to go over if he ever wanted to understand half the shit they were saying to him.

Learning languages were so _hard_ , though.

Especially Japanese—Veneziano had pleaded and begged him to learn it with him shortly after the alliance was made between Italy, Japan, and Germany. Romano had staunchly refused, having just learned English and still brain-fried over that. Now it was something Romano had to feel some regret over it, but whatever—it will settle itself somehow.

Romano was nodding off, having flopped over to his side lazily.

" _Roma-chan_!" An irritating voice bellowed, the front door slamming open. Romano's eyes snapped open before they narrowed slightly in annoyance. _Roma-chan_. That was the only thing he could recognize from the blabber of words they were saying to him. Did his name carry over, or something?

Romano was oddly disappointed.

He _did_ have a human name, after all. While it was an oddly optimistic desire for him, he did kind of hope that, against all hope, that his human name would be used this time around. Lovino Vargas—one, because he was used to it. Two, because it would make it easy as hell for his brother to find him, if he was even looking.

Romano scowled, ignoring the heaviness of that statement. _Of course, he was looking for him, don't be dumb, Romano_ , he told himself. Veneziano was made of sunshine and rainbows, and he – he liked Romano enough, he was sure.

" _You're fussy again, aren't you?_ " A deep voice cooed, Romano being scooped cleanly off the floor. Romano squirmed, leveling a flat stare at his supposed father. Having parents were also weird—Romano never had any parents, the closest thing he had was _Nono_. Maybe Spain, considering most of his colony days were spent with him. " _Aren't you cute!?_ "

" _He's been quiet all day,_ " an airy voice giggled, and Romano instantly squirmed, wanting to be held by his mother rather than his father. He was wary as hell of being accidentally dropped by his overly excited father. His mother giggled again, taking him easily enough.

" _So cute~_ " His father didn't seem disappointed at the lost, leaning forward to pinch Romano's cheek. Romano scowled at him, trying to bat his hand away because one, _fuck that_. And secondly? _Fuck that—_ Romano wasn't a baby, no matter how much he looked at it! He was probably older than these two combined!

Probably—psch, no, for _sure_. Romano may not be great at many things, with math being one of them, but his age wasn't something he was iffy on. Well—he actually didn't know his _exact_ age, but that's besides the point. He was older than them, that was basically all he was certain on.

Which made this feel _weird_ as hell, snuggled up to his newest mother.

Romano tried not to think about it too much.

" _Roma-chan~ Are you hungry?"_ His father grinned a stupid grin. It irritated Romano, and he huffed, averting his eyes sharply away from him. " _I'm taking that as a yes! Did he already have lunch, mama?_ " His mother giggled, following him into the kitchen. Her laughter was breezy, and Romano eyed his mother out the corner of his eye.

His father was, in short, an idiot. An idiot that was almost _too_ much of an idiot.

His mother was more tolerable with her breezy giggles and sunshine smiles—it brought a growingly familiar ache in Romano's chest, twisting his stomach. As much as he liked his newest mother, being with her nearly all the time made him remember Veneziano and Spain much more; it was _almost_ painful, if Romano's pride didn't get in the way.

 _Do they miss me? Hell, do they even_ know _I'm gone?_

" _He has, but it's nearly time for his snack~"_ His mother strapped him in his highchair and hooking a bib around his neck. Romano only put up a mild fuss, leaning away from her touch to frown at her, unhappy at not understanding what the hell they were saying. It was obvious they were talking about him, and it was now more obvious that they wanted to feed him, but other than that, all of it flew over his head.

" _Where's Tsu-fish_?" His father asked in the middle of pulling out a box, and Romano instantly scrutinized his choice. He made a face; that box held the plain wheat crackers, which was bland and rather forgettable. It wasn't a suitable snack to eat before a nap, damn it.

Just as Romano was about to raise hell about his father's choice, and in the middle of his mother humming, " _Tsu-kun should be back any moment now—_ "

The front door crashed open, and a clumsy voice yelled, " _I'm home!_ " This was followed by a hefty thump, and Romano twitched, recognizing the voice and the familiar sound of someone falling on their ass. " _Ow_ ," the voice groaned.

His newest brother.

His newest _older_ brother.

From what Romano gathered, his name was _Tsuna_. That was basically the only thing he understood from the mix of blabber and Japanese Tsuna spoke to him, pointing exaggeratedly at himself and repeating the word over and over that Romano had to finally fucking concede and accept that _yes_ , his name is in fact _Tsuna_. It was too much effort to give that piece of information, and Romano had retaliated by reaching upwards and tugging on his newest older brother's hair _harshly_.

His father laughed, placing a few crackers in front of Romano. Romano stared blandly at them, casting his gaze upwards to meet his father's expectant gaze harshly. Keeping his stare, Romano reached forward and pushed a cracker off his tray and sent it tumbling to the floor. " _Roma-chan!_ "

His idiot of a father had no _right_ sounding that heartbroken.

Tsuna appeared in the kitchen, rubbing his jaw and his eyes were suspiciously watery. As usual, their parents didn't seem to notice. Their father was fidgeting with the crackers, trying to make them more appealing to him, while his mother was bustling around the kitchen, apparently decided on getting him something to drink for his snack. It was—too surreal, Romano thought as he slumped in on himself.

In his past life, he would have given up everything to be a younger sibling.

Because younger siblings seem to have _everything_ in comparison to their older siblings.

Now, though—Romano just had a sour taste in his mouth as he watched Tsuna shuffle nervously in the doorway, wide brown eyes darting from their mother to their father. He sighed, and his shoulders drooped slightly, while Tsuna's eyes finally landed on Romano. Romano stared at him, internally kicking himself because, _damn it all to hell_.

Feeling like an ignored older sibling wasn't a good feeling to have.

Tsuna was an awkward kid, but sweet. Keeping that in mind and swallowing his pride and the bitter taste in his mouth, Romano held out his arms towards him. Tsuna's face lit up instantly. Of course, his action brought their father's attention towards Tsuna as well.

" _Tsu-fish!_ " Their father grinned, instantly dropping the crackers in front of Romano. He seemingly gave up trying to make them into make-believe airplanes and trains, trying to cram them in Romano's mouth, to give his oldest son a hug the moment he drew closer. " _Welcome home!_ "

" _Ow_ ," his brother muttered, wiggling out their father's grasp. Romano wanted to laugh but settled the amusement in his chest by biting on one of his fingers. " _Hello, Roma-chan_ ," Tsuna greeted, reaching out a hand to brush against his hair, carefully avoiding Romano's curl.

Which was good; that just meant he remembered the _consequences_.

Romano refused to let anyone violate his curl like that without putting up a fight. Even if they got a good grip on it, he was going to retaliate. No mercy.

Romano opened his mouth and babbled, not really trying to make any proper words. A few pieces of garbled Italian dripped into his string of nonsense, and he even tried to imitate a few of the sounds he recognized from the language they all spoke. He also took the time to grip onto Tsuna's finger, squeezing tightly.

Being a baby was so goddamn easy, he deserved a medal.

 _Easy, but boring_.

" _Tsuna,"_ their father frowned, and Romano tugged on Tsuna's finger when Tsuna stiffened, glancing at their father cautiously. It was usually hilarious to see Tsuna so wary around their father, which Romano chalked up to the various incidents of their father accidentally dropping him a few times this past week. " _Are you hurt? Your jaw is bruising!_ "

" _Eh?_ " Their mother butted in, finally giving Romano his juice. Romano reluctantly let go of Tsuna's finger to grasp at it. " _Oh no, come sit; I'll get you an ice pack, Tsu-kun_." Tsuna flushed under their stares, hand instinctively coming up to rub at the tender spot on his jaw. Romano stared at the movement and their parents' expressions; about fucking time they noticed.

" _I-it's nothing, really_ ," Tsuna tried to laugh their attention off awkwardly. " _I just tripped when I came in. I hit my chin on the step._ "

Romano stifled a yawn as their parents fussed about for Tsuna and settled back. He felt a surge of bittersweet nostalgia and slightly overcooked envy from his—past life, as he settled back into the background. Past life. Was it really a past life if he could remember it in this new one? Especially if he fully intended on returning to his old life once he was capable of it.

Despite his resolve, though, something lingered at the edges of his mind.

A family that didn't mind his presence, so far.

A new chance at a childhood he still felt partially cheated by in his old life—not that he didn't like living in Spain with said personification himself at times, but the fact that he was only there because Austria didn't want him, the leftover Italy—it really made him bitter, and angry, and no one had a _completely_ good time with him when he was younger.

It felt—surprisingly nice.

Maybe when he left back to Italy, to Veneziano, he would keep in touch with this new family of his. It wasn't like he could just up and abandon them if they planned on taking care of him for the next couple of years—and it wasn't like he could just out himself that he _really_ wasn't a child, their child. Not when they appeared so happy, and not when he felt a bit selfish and wary towards them at the same time.

Ugh. Feelings were so complicated. Romano fiddled with his bottle, feeling the familiar wash of irritation come over him at the embarrassment of drinking from it. It wasn't like he had to decide right this instant, on what to do with his new family when he grew up; in fact, it was something that he shouldn't even be worrying about right now. It was best to not make an elephant out of a fly too soon, after all.

Real family or not, though—

Family was important.

-0-0-0-

Romano was settled on his father's lap, who apparently had a day off of work—nothing to be excited about. His father usually spent his off days getting drunk off his ass and passing out in the living room, with beer bottles littered around him. It was very much off-putting and disgusting as it sounded, and if Romano had a chance to, he'd usually attempt to draw messily on his father's face when he could.

It was his version of payback for having to deal with him; even more so, his newest _mother_ having to deal with this idiotic loaf of a man. She was a fucking saint, Romano concluded.

Despite this, Romano couldn't help but look forward to the bleary moments when his father woke up. During these scant moments, his father would actually speak some words he could _understand_. Italian, pure, sweet Italian—he had his suspicions about his father's heritage, his features and coloring a bit too bold and familiar to be purely Japanese. It was only confirmed, though, after one of Romano's attempted payback and his father sitting up abruptly, snatching him back from fully falling backwards and laughing lightly at Romano's startled expression.

"Trying to catch me off guard, huh? _Polpetto_ ~" His father cooed, and Romano almost burst— _teared up_ , in the toughest way possible, at the words. _Italian_. He was so grateful and surprised at the familiar, almost heartwarming, sound that he forgave the fact that his father basically called him a fucking meatball.

Romano's expression must have conveyed something, and his father grinned at him, a bemused and loving expression on his face.

"Hm? Do you like Italian?" His father had questioned teasingly, nuzzling his face against Romano's. Romano huffed and pushed his face away, frowning at him. But he pondered his words and nodded quickly, much to his father's enjoyment. "Maybe I can teach you Italian, then~"

That would be fucking moot, considering that Romano _was_ Italian.

In fact, _was_ a part of Italy.

Still, it would be a perfect chance for him to 'learn' Italian in this life. It wouldn't draw too much suspicion if his father taught him, right?

So, whenever his father could spare some time for him, he'd speak to him softly in Italian, reading books and trying to get him to say some words in Italian. It was obvious he had an affinity towards it more than Japanese, much to his father's amusement. So, if anything, his father having a day off was almost _nice_.

Today was different, however.

" _Are you sure you don't want me to keep him?"_ Their newest mother babbled, amidst cooking and cleaning furiously. Tsuna had already left for school, after he was done eying his mother and father suspiciously. Romano's newest father just laughed, adjusting Romano in his arms.

" _I got him,_ mama _,"_ he cooed. Romano tugged harshly at the outfit he was in, toes curling inside uncomfortable shoes. " _We'll be back before you know it!_ "

Romano squirmed when they finally left the house, towards a black car parked out in front. Ah, they were going somewhere; Romano felt dubious about it, considering that it was his _father_ who was taking him. As he was buckled in, Romano reached forward and yanked his father back by the hem of his suit jacket and gave him his sternest glare. " _Why_?"

As much as he wanted to speak solely in Italian now that he was learning it, it'd be suspicious to not at least learn _some_ Japanese when he was growing up here. Romano hoped his garbled words came across clearly, his mouth still slurring some of the sounds sloppily. Iemitsu grinned, ruffling his hair and pulling back.

" _Hm_? _This_? Papa _looks nice,_ no?" His father seemed proud as he gestured as his state of dress. Romano hummed, giving the man's outfit a once-over. It _was_ nice and looked almost Italian designed. The cut was acceptable. Romano was about to give his blessings when he noticed something when Iemitsu was still showing off, the suit jacket flapping open just enough to give him a glimpse of—

 _Shit_ , was that a gun?

Weren't guns illegal in Japan? At least, very hard to get—Romano had to wonder why his newest father was toting one around so easily, then. This man was an idiot; if Japan's government allowed him to have one, he'll have to suggest something to the personification himself when they met again.

"Let's go, Roma-chan!" His father enthused shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat. "We're going to meet your grandfather~" Grandfather? Romano raised his eyebrows, gnawing absently on a teething toy out of boredom. He had a grandfather? They never mentioned him before, nor were there any photos in the house indicating as such.

Grandfather.

Grandpa Rome flashed through his mind, his idiotic expression and stupid way of speaking. Romano huffed, turning away from staring at the back of his newest father's seat to stare out the window. While he was almost always embarrassed to meet him, even if it was his stupid _ghost_ (which was fucking creepy, by the way), Romano wished he could speak to him again. Especially now, when he was basically all alone in his thoughts and in a foreign country.

It was an hour before they reached where they needed to go.

An airport.

The buzz and commotion of the airport hurt Romano's head, and he pressed himself tightly to his father's chest and glared at anyone who dared to come close. His father just laughed, amused, and ran fingers down his back, patting him and rocking him gently. Despite the happy gestures, his eyes were hard and occasionally darted around quickly. It reminded him of when Spain was trying not to make him worry when they were younger, despite looking bruised and battered, paranoid of the world around them.

Especially when that fuckface France came around.

Romano wondered about his grandfather—what type of person he was, who he was, what he did. The only point of reference he had was Grandpa Rome, and he was pretty sure no one really compared to him. Not—not that Romano knew first-hand, having been left behind once Veneziano was created. From what Romano fantasized and what his idiotic little brother told him, Grandpa Rome was amazing. And from what Romano knew of him when they did meet, however scant their time together was.

Bitterness made Romano bite his father's finger when it drew too close to his face.

"Ow!" His father whined. "Roma-chan! That hurt! No-no," he chided, and Romano gave him a callous smirk in response. "So mean," his father muttered. He sighed but smiled soon afterwards, a soft and gentle smile that made a slight twinge of guilt appear. Romano attempted to crush that small amount with his heel and scowled at him. "It's okay, Roma-chan! You can be as mean as you want; papa will still love you~"

Romano gave him a sulky glare. " _Idiot_ ," he muttered.

His father's stricken look made a brief flare of satisfaction surge, and he hid his smirk by burying his face into his father's chest.

Luckily for both of them, they were interrupted by a voice shouting something across the airport. "Oi, Iemitsu!" Both of them glanced up and around, looking at two people who ambled over. Both were considerably older than Romano's newest father, with aged features and graying hair—Romano felt something twinge in his stomach as he stared at them, an air of familiarity leaking around them.

 _Do I know them_?

"Nono!" His father, apparently Iemitsu, greeted enthusiastically. Romano thanked whoever was listening that they switched fully into Italian. "Welcome to _Nippon_! Thank you for coming," his father continued, broad smile on his face. Romano scowled and tried to glance away, trying to ease the discomfort of meeting new people by gnawing angrily on his fist.

Sadly, said fist was taken and used to wave at the two new people.

"Don't be shy, Roma-chan! Say hi to our guests!" Romano could only sputter as he angrily tried to jerk his hand out of his father's loose grasp. He glared at him and then at their 'guests' with as much ferocity as he could, irritation stabbing hot in his gut.

"Feisty one, huh?" One of the two men asked, leaning forward with a disarming smile. Romano flinched and stared warily at him, the air around the man strikingly familiar the more and more he stared. An impression wiggled in the back of his mind, heavy and suffocating. It ignited something within Romano that made him grit his teeth, and glare harder. "No need to be wary, child," the man laughed softly. "I'm your _Nono_ , you know?"

"He's just shy!" His father explained quickly.

"More like murderous, haha," the other man that first yelled at them laughed. "I wouldn't take another step towards him, _Nono_ ; he looks like he might just bite your finger off."

 _Nono_ didn't react other than letting his disarming smile widen a bit. Ignoring his friend's advice, he reached forward with his finger, and Romano eyed it suspiciously. While he tried to be civil in most of his interactions, despite having a sharp tongue and even sharper temper, there was something unnerving about meeting this man.

Romano wouldn't feel comfortable until he knew _why_.

"Hello, Roma-chan," the old man's smile never wavered. Romano very reluctantly allowed his hand to be wrapped around the offered finger, expression still feeling rather stiff on his face. "I heard so much about you from your papa. It's nice to meet you," _Nono_ chuckled, a low and somehow warm sound, as he gave Romano's hand a small shake.

Something clenched in Romano's stomach. This man's whole demeanor was giving him _vibes_ , familiar vibes, but Romano just couldn't remember _where_. It was hard to remember everyone he's ever met, seeing how old he really was; the fact that Romano's gut instinct was telling him that he _did_ know this man was alarming enough.

Because that meant that Romano had met him before, and made a very pointed decision to try and commit him to memory in order to- what? Not trust him, or meet him again?

"H-hi," Romano managed to grit out, voice undeniably quiet. He averted his eyes, turning his head to smoosh his face into his father's chest. _Fuck_ , he just wanted to go back to the house. He wanted this to be over.

His father practically _squealed_. "So cute, so cute! My baby son is so cute," he almost crushed Romano to his chest, and Romano flailed, letting out a low sound of discomfort. _God_ , why was his father so damn weird? It reminded him too much of Spain when he was younger; fucking bastard. "I love you!"

"Stop making a scene, Iemistu," the man that wasn't Nono sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "You're being too loud." _Nono_ straightened from where he was leaned slightly, after giving Romano's hand a slight squeeze as he pulled back.

"I find it endearing," _Nono_ enthused. "It is truly a treasure to finally meet the ones you seem to speak so highly of, Iemitsu," he told Romano's beaming idiot of a father. Romano was almost tempted to snap at him to shut up, if only because his words would no doubt encourage more dumb behavior.

But words were hard to come by when one was so young.

That, and an awkward lump and tightness in his chest prevented him from even _thinking_ of saying anything. Romano _knew_ this guy, met him before; which was weird, considering that it must have been recent. Which was also very _good_ , considering the fact that must mean he didn't do any of that time traveling shit England had warned him about, the bastard.

Romano must have been conceived shortly after the ritual.

"They are really wonderful," Iemitsu sighed. "But enough of that, let's get going, yeah? You'll meet my family soon enough! My dearest Nana is at home cooking right now~ Such an angel, yeah?" Romano wrinkled his nose, firmly averting his gaze from the strange men and trying to stifle the uneasiness in his stomach.

"And your oldest? Tsunayoshi, was it?" Nono inquired as they _finally_ started to leave, Nono's friend keeping easy pace behind them. Romano briefly wondered about luggage, but was too relieved to actually be leaving to really care. He just wanted to head back, and preferably cling to his mother for the rest of these strange men's visit.

"Should be at school," Iemitsu chuckled. "He tries hard, it's cute!"

Romano wanted to roll his eyes when his idiotic father started to descend into cooing and awing over Tsuna; it was goddamn embarrassing, actually. Romano retaliated by gnawing angrily on one of his father's suit lapels, only pausing a few moments afterwards when he spotted something out the corner of his eyes. A seemingly dark shadow was keeping pace with them as they moved through the airport, and Romano craned his head slightly, frowning and narrowing his eyes to get a better look.

More strange men in suits.

A godawful clench of nerves rocked his stomach, making Romano swallow harshly. _Fucking hell, what_?

"A clever little guy, hm?" Nono hummed, seemingly amused. Romano flinched when the old man reached forward to ruffle his hair, not even wiling to put up much of a fuss when he grew too close to his curl. "No worries, little one; they're _family_."

Family?

Romano knew he had biological family in this world. Veneziano was his biological -as biological as countries can get- family. His new _human_ family, his mother and father and rather awkward but nice older brother, was family. Apparently this old man was his grandfather. That was family.

But the way this man emphasized the word made something click inside Romano's head as he stared at him.

Fucking shit.

He was related to one of his worst nightmares: Timeoto Vongola, the 9th Don of the Vongola.

 _Fucking shit_!

-0-0-0-

Spain imbedded his axe into the wall near England's head, smiling cheerfully.

"Where is _Roma_ , you eyebrowed bastard," Spain inquired, voice lowering dangerously. England didn't move, his expression unchanging. If anything, he looked expectant and undisturbed; also just a tiny bit annoyed. It pissed Spain off to no end, and he let his smile drop. " _Answer me_ ," Spain threatened.

" _M-mon ami_ ," France's voice was strained, behind him. A hand was placed on his shoulder, gently tugging him backwards. Spain only conceded, only because he needed to pull his axe from the wall. Prussia was snickering. "Let's not get violent, shall we?"

"Let's get violent!" Prussia enthused.

"America won't like it," France sighed. "It might cause another war."

"Let's not get violent!" Prussia corrected.

"If the bastard would only talk, then I wouldn't have to go to such drastic measures," Spain defended himself. England was inspecting the wall that was ruined, a skeptical frown on his face. Each second that ticked by was slowly snapping Spain's patience.

"The _bastard_ is right here, you know," was England's bland reply. He blew out a frustrated sigh. "What do you want to know? Italy Romano isn't here, anymore," England waved a hand, staring balefully at Spain.

Spain twitched. "If he isn't here, then where is he."

England's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know," he stated, tense. "He could be anywhere in the world by now." His smile was a bit smug, as if he knew something that Spain didn't. "That is, _if_ he exists yet." Spain inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves, his fingers tightening on his axe.

"You _bastard_ ," Spain snarled, swinging his axe again. England's eyes widened a bit, and he managed to dodge at the right moment. "Just because you defeated my _armada_ doesn't mean you're all that great."

"The past is the past!" France interjected. He placed a restraining hand on Spain's shoulder, which he jerked out of the touch. Prussia snickered, and France sent him a disproving glance. "England, you silly creature, stop with the riddles. Just tell us what happened, _qui_?"

"Stupid frog," England insulted. He barely tore his eyes off of Spain, which made Spain smirk; he knew his biggest problem was him. "Fine, just stop ruining my home interior already, you bloody twit," England sighed. In effort to show how serious he was, he straightened from his defensive stance, folding his arms. Spain reeled in his displeasure and disdain, straightening himself.

Prussia looked a tad disappointed. Nonetheless, he said, "Ita-chan is totally sad!"

"As is everyone," France insisted with a slight shake of his head, tsking slightly. "Romano disappearing has caused quite the stir, England. Even someone as lovely as myself is having difficulties without the southern half of Italy being around."

"Southern Italy, or the _southern half_ of Southern Italy?" Prussia snickered gleefully. England made a disgusted face, even as France just laughed lightly, sparing the albino a sly wink. Any traces of teasing, however, was interrupted when Spain swung his axe downwards, impaling it harshly into the flooring with a threatening _shick_.

"What was that, _amigos_?" Spain asked, voice tight and faux-cheer. His smile was anything but light as he directed it towards his two friends. Prussia kept snickering, though it quieted a bit and he averted his eyes. France had gone deathly pale, strained smile stuck firmly in place.

"N-nothing, _Espana_ ," France quickly assured.

"Idiots," England muttered, shaking his head. "Let's go sit, shall we? I can explain the day that Romano came to me for help," he sounded vaguely smug, though there was a solemn twist to his expression. Spain let out a grunt, borderline a snarl, at him.

"Come to _you_ for help?" Spain sounded doubtful. "I know he said he was with you when I last spoke with him, but you were probably holding him hostage and making him say weird things. I don't trust you," he insisted, making England twitch and send him an annoyed glare.

"If that is hard to believe, I'm going to be sad to tell you what you're doing now," England spat back. Spain bared his teeth slightly. "Coming to me for help, you twit. Now let's hurry up before I change my bloody mind." With that harsh statement, he stiffly turned and stormed more into the apartment, all of them being crammed into England's front interior hallway.

"As if I'll let you change your mind," Spain mumbled as he followed, barely paying attention to France and Prussia as they lingered behind. France inspected the gouges and mess they made, sighing and glancing at Prussia. Prussia shrugged, his usually smug expression still on his face.

"One step closer," Prussia nodded. "Romano is a tough kid; he probably decided to take a break for a bit, or something," he chuckled. France pressed his lips into a thin line, not really believing it. Not after Veneziano's worried tears and wild theories on what could have happened, between the mafia and maybe Romano just got lost in the grocery store again and needed _help_.

Not when Germany pulled him aside, worried about Veneziano's feelings and experience. Linking it to when Germany was the only formally recognized country left between Prussia and him.

It was worrying.

And- well, France really hoped that wasn't the case and England and Romano decided to pull a rather cruel prank on the rest of the world. Because Spain wasn't taking this lightly in any form, and France was worried for the state of his friend if Romano was _truly_ gone.

 _Or rather_ , he thought glumly as he passed by the wreckage his friend inflicted upon England's home. _I'm worried for the rest of the world if one of Spain's most precious people is gone for good_.

* * *

Review, favorite, follow, or whatever you do on stories that you read!

Didn't expect to update this one again tbh, haha

See ya'!

-mms


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